"Regulus! Was everything you said in Divination class true?"
Professor McGonagall asked from the staff seat. That morning's open lecture for the entire school was held at the request of Regulus Black. The new Divination professor ended up scolding every student present. If any of the graduates had dared to attend, they likely would have left drenched in spit as well.
The reason Professor McGonagall asked whether it was true was because she herself had little regard for Divination. The mainstream branches of wizarding magic were Transfiguration, Charms, Runes, Potions, Herbology, and so on. Prophecy, being such an intangible and unverifiable thing, was naturally dismissed as unworthy of serious study.
"Of course it's true. Prophecy is a vital field in the wizarding world. If it were really so worthless, the Ministry of Magic could simply throw away the crystal balls in the Hall of Prophecy instead of preserving all of them for research."
Regulus Black's words were clear, and he was hardly the only one with such thoughts. Within the Ministry of Magic, the Department of Mysteries and the Hall of Prophecy were the hardest divisions to enter. Without belonging to their circle or possessing the gift of prophecy, no one would even bother with you. The fact that the Ministry maintained these two departments with such high-level status was certainly not just to keep freeloaders.
However, in Professor McGonagall's eyes, there was another layer of meaning in the way she looked at Regulus Black. Professor Sybill Trelawney was pregnant, and the child belonged to the Black family. For Regulus Black to defend Divination so firmly in his very first class seemed, to McGonagall, more than a little suggestive.
She only hoped that Professor Sybill Trelawney would find happiness.
Regulus Black's Divination lessons were somewhat more engaging than Professor Trelawney's had been. But those silly predictions students had once made in class, he ordered them all to practice on their own at home. He neither wanted to see them fumbling in class nor to witness their results.
In his words, "All those fabricated prophecies have no value whatsoever."
Yet despite being scolded like that, Divination still ended up oversubscribed. Every student who heard about it signed up for the elective.
Many even mentioned Divination in their letters home.
The result was that plenty of graduates regretted not having taken the subject seriously back then. Who knew—if they had dedicated themselves, perhaps they could have become Seers.
"Since that last open class, I've said this in every year group. Today it's your turn."
Regulus Black smiled, ready to repeat himself once more.
"Even if you work hard, you might never become a Seer. But if you don't try, you could miss the chance altogether."
As he spoke, many students who already knew the line recited it along with him. When it was done, everyone laughed together.
"So that room full of crystal balls is the Ministry's Hall of Prophecy."
Handsome Harry Potter finally got the answer he had been searching for from his Salvation Army classmates—the mysterious place that had haunted his dreams.
"So the Dark Lord is searching for a prophecy about Harry Potter."
Ron Weasley's intuition flared again. He slapped his thigh, then collapsed with a yelp, leaping up again when the pain from his leg struck him.
"Even knowing that, what can we do? We can't leave the school. Until the holidays, the only place we're allowed is Hogsmeade. And even then, could we leave Hogsmeade at all?"
Harry Potter had raised a very practical problem. They couldn't leave Hogwarts except during breaks.
Did that mean they would have to wait until the holidays to pursue the prophecy crystal ball?
"We can't give the Dark Lord any head start. What if I go into the Forbidden Forest and find that damned car?"
Ron Weasley jumped up immediately. His father's enchanted car was still in the Forbidden Forest. To him, it was Arthur's legacy and labor of love.
"You want to, and I won't object. But that car can only seat five people at most. We've got more than ten who'd need to go. We still have to think of another plan."
"Maybe we can pack Morin up and send him off by owl."
Unable to think of a solution, a student came up with a ridiculous idea. Morin, the shortest boy in Gryffindor, broke out in a cold sweat at the suggestion.
"Uh—excuse me, I think I'll go take a bath first."
Morin forced a stiff smile, then stumbled back to the dormitory in panic.
"Or we could ask Hagrid for help. With so many magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest, he must have a way."
One student thought of the Hippogriffs. Maybe they could ride them all the way to the Ministry in London.
"Oh… heavens! With ideas like that, we might as well go straight to Dumbledore for help."
Harry Potter covered his face at the suggestion.
Gryffindors had courage in abundance, but not a shred of common sense. No wonder the other houses took advantage of them so often.
"Let's at least investigate which creatures in the Forbidden Forest could actually help us."
Another student suggested, and everyone agreed. They all went to bed to prepare, since it was already late.
Even lions need sleep, and these little lions weren't all night owls.
Once everyone was gone, Harry Potter had no choice but to head back to his own dormitory.
If Voldemort had been in control of his consciousness, a plan would have been devised already. But Voldemort could not appear; everything had to be left to Harry Potter himself.
Perhaps they could use the Floo Network, moving from Regulus Black's office to Dolores Umbridge's home.
But that would expose Voldemort's connection with Dolores Umbridge, rendering her useless once discovered.
So to obtain the prophecy crystal ball, Voldemort concealed his own consciousness, relinquished control of the body, tampered with Harry Potter's memory, invaded his mind, and planted repeated suggestions, coaxing Harry into doing exactly what he wanted.
The prophecy crystal ball was now known, but Harry was stuck at the problem of leaving Hogwarts.
If only he could simply climb the wall and escape. But though the castle's walls looked thin, they were enchanted with protective wards—touching them could leave him half-dead.
That night, Harry Potter dreamed again. Voldemort had found the prophecy crystal ball, listening to its contents while unleashing peals of maniacal laughter.
Harry woke with a start, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.
As agreed, every member of the Salvation Army ran into the Forbidden Forest after class. They grouped together, carefully scouting the edges. Since they had to return to Hogwarts before nightfall, they had never gone too deep.
Not everyone was destined to be a protagonist, so not everyone was Harry Potter.
The weather was fine that day, and out of boredom, Harry began yet another exploration of the Forbidden Forest.
To his surprise, he came across Regulus Black with a group of girls, feeding a strange magical creature.
"Regulus! Why can't I see them?"
The new twin sisters, holding chunks of beef, asked curiously. If the meat in their hands hadn't been vanishing into thin air, they would never have believed there were invisible magical creatures here.
"They're called Thestrals. At first, there were only a handful, but in the last half-century Hogwarts has bred over a hundred. It's said only those who have witnessed death can see them. Because of that, they've been mistaken as omens of misfortune. But that's just subjective judgment. We've all seen death with our own eyes. The fact that you can't see them only means you've lived happily, without having brushed against death yet."
"Exactly. Since the Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts students have been able to see them. We always thought the carriages moved on their own, never imagining such magical creatures were pulling them."
Cho Chang didn't know why, but Cedric's death left her with a dull ache, as if something in her heart was missing. They hadn't been close, except that he had once invited her to the ball.
Harry Potter felt his worldview overturning—the horse-like Thestrals were actually carnivorous.
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